


come back to me

by Anonymous



Series: to love and to keep [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic, Fluff and Angst, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Trauma, struggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21939472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Wonwoo is lost, and he wants to be found. But Junhui is the only map that can guide him there.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Series: to love and to keep [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589290
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63
Collections: WIP OLYMPICS: WINTER 2019/20, YMMH FIC FEST, to love and to lose





	come back to me

**Author's Note:**

> For YMMHOLIDAY.
> 
> Prompt #Y120
> 
> This is also really short and completely unbeta-ed + I really had no idea what I was writing but I hope it kinda works with the prompt.

He had just settled himself into the couch, the spare wool blanket wrapped snugly around him and the remote in his hand when he heard the beeping of the keypad being pressed. He swivelled around just in time to see a figure enter the apartment, his coat draped over an arm as he struggled with the numerous grocery bags he had somehow managed to laden himself with. Chuckling at the sight, he pushed himself off the couch, out of the safe warmth of the blanket, and made his way to the figure who was now mumbling curses under his breath as he fumbled with the bags. 

“Language Jun,” he laughed, reaching for a bag that had fallen on the floor. His back twinged a little as he bent down to grab the cans before they could get ever further away from them, and he winced. Immediately, Jun was by his side, one hand reaching to pluck the bag out of his arms even as the other held onto him to steady him.

“Does it hurt?” Junhui asked, and he shook his head. Junhui’s brow furrowed as if unhappy with the answer as if he knew that he was lying, and the sudden urge he had to smooth away those lines was so huge that he had to turn himself away.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, refusing to make eye contact with Junhui. This had been happening to him a lot lately, sudden urges to do things to Jun or to say things to him that he couldn’t understand. Most days it would be like today, small things like wanting to touch him, to comfort him, to wipe away the pain that he knew Junhui thought he was hiding. All of those feelings, those urges stemming from a part of his mind he no longer had access to.

“Wonwoo,” Jun’s voice broke into his thoughts like a wave, and he couldn’t help the way his body moved on its own accord, turning towards him automatically - another thing he had noticed recently. “You have to tell me when it hurts.”

“I will,” he mumbled, still refusing to look at Junhui. “You know I will.”

A sigh. Junhui did that, Wonwoo knew, every time Wonwoo choose to hide his pain. It was almost as if he was holding himself back, from doing more, from saying more. Junhui grabbed the bags, hoisting himself up from the floor, before leaving to deposit them in the kitchen. Wonwoo couldn’t help but watch him as he left, the way he cut a striking figure even in the horrible dim lighting of the apartment’s hallway made leaving him a strange kind of breathless. An image of those same broad shoulders flashed in his mind, faded and blurred, but he would know that silhouette anywhere. The images are broken, splinters, fragments of a life he had once had - there are flowers, suits, champagnes, pews, and Junhui. Why was Junhui there? He had always thought that Junhui had been someone assigned by the hospital, to look after his recovery. So why was Junhui there? And he knew it was Junhui, that back, those shoulders, those arms had become so familiar to him in the last few months since he’d regained consciousness.

Who was Junhui to him?

\---

The sounds of the game being played on the huge but worn out television echo around them, the thumps and grunts of their fighting characters were the soundtrack to their evening. It was game night - the friday nights that Wonwoo and Junhui spent gorging themselves on pizza, soft drinks and Junhui’s personal favourite, Street Fighter. Wonwoo had no idea Junhui even knew how to play the game, given that he’d unearthed the Xbox One console from the back of the television stand but he had, and that had been the start of their regular, weekly game nights.

Tonight, in particular, had been intense. Wonwoo and Junhui were drawn 2-2, the pizza lay forgotten in between them as both of them fixed their eyes on the characters that were jumping around on screen. The timer counted down, 3, 2, 1 and then they were fighting. Junhui with the only character he would play - Ryu - while Wonwoo liked to switch things up and had picked Chun-li that night. A shadow passed over Junhui’s face when that happened when Wonwoo selected the female martial artist, but the moment was over as soon as it had appeared and Wonwoo soon forgot about it. 

Without thinking, Wonwoo let his fingers work the controls, a familiar feeling building up the muscles in his hands responded to his character's movements. He didn’t know what came over him but just as Ryu aimed a swift kick at Chun-li, Wonwoo reacted, his fingers tapping out a combo they must have known another lifetime ago, and then it was over. The screen read ‘Victory’ and Chun-li danced around behind the bright red and yellow words. 

“Take that, Junnie,” he yelled excitedly, clapping Junhui on the back.

Junhui’s remote clattered to the floor, as he turned to face Wonwoo, his face almost ashen. Wonwoo startled at the noise, turning towards it, his hands automatically reached for Junhui. They stopped, hovering over Junhui’s hands for a second before he gave in and placed his hand over Junhui’s. A sense of familiarity erupted in his chest as he held Junhui’s hand in his, and he frowned, not understanding the feeling. Junhui stared at him, eyes wide in shock as he glanced from their hands back to him, almost as though he was contemplating whether or not to pull away from him. 

Eventually, he relaxed, giving Wonwoo a small smile that seemed to contain every emotion but happiness, as he let their hands fall naturally. “You win. Looks like next game night dinner is on me.”

Wonwoo’s frown only deepened as he glanced between them, at the way their hands lay, separated by less than a centimetre on the carpet. Jun was smiling but Wonwoo saw more pain in that smile than anything else, the strange urge to take him by the hand and pull him into his lap, holding him till he smiled for real, was all that he wanted to do. His hand twitched, itching to bring himself closer, but Jun was too fast for him, removing his hand from where it had been on the carpet before Wonwoo could even think about acting. He sighed. He hated these urges, hated that he couldn’t understand them, hated that every time they surfaced Junhui looked more and more withdrawn from him. 

It was probably best if he forgot about them, he couldn’t help thinking. At the very least, maybe it would make Junhui less uncomfortable. So he clenched his fist and reached behind him for the long-discarded box of pizza instead.

“Here,” he gestured, placing the box between them gently, almost like a barrier of woodfire-baked flour and cheese. “Pizza’s getting cold.”

\---

Wonwoo doesn’t know how it happened, or why, if he was being honest with himself. It had been a casual Sunday afternoon, Winter had long-since given way to Spring but Wonwoo, being himself, still found himself curled up under thick woollen throws whenever he read in the living room despite the warmer weather. He had just settled down to his book following his lunch with Junhui while Junhui had decided to scratch that cleaning itch he sometimes got at the turn of the season. 

Wonwoo had commented once that maybe it was just mites, but Junhui had chucked a cushion at him and told him that if he said any more, Wonwoo would be on bathroom duty, his injuries be damned. Wonwoo had chuckled at the memory, glancing up from his book to watch as Jun moved around the living room area, dusting and rearranging the photo frames that stood on the mantle their television now stood as well. Junhui had been reaching around the photos to get at the back of the television when he knocked over one of the frames, the metal of the frame clanging loudly as it rebounded off the floor. The glass shattered on impact and not one, but two, photos had spilt out with the glass. 

Junhui had yelped, startled by the sound, as he sprung back to avoid the shards of glass, only to land on a particularly sharp one. Junhui had cried out, clutching at his foot as he fell to the floor, and Wonwoo had been out of his chair in a heartbeat, trusting in the slippers he always wore around the house to keep him safe. Junhui had protested, wanting Wonwoo to be away from where the danger was, but Wonwoo paid him no mind. He looped an arm around Junhui’s legs and hoisted him upwards, ignoring the pain that had shot up his back the minute Junhui’s legs had left the floor.

He had placed Junhui on the couch where he had been sitting earlier before rushing to the kitchen to grab the first aid box he knew Junhui kept under the sink. Silently, he had dressed the cut; removing the glass, he cleaned it with alcohol, before wrapping it up in a bandage. It was only then that he had noticed the chain around Junhui’s neck, which must have slipped out from all the movement. He knew Junhui had one, had seen it a few times before, but this time it had been different. Where there had been one ring hanging on the chain before, now there were two, and Wonwoo had frozen the minute he had seen it. Something tugged in his chest and he had reached for it unconsciously, fingers grazing the cool metal before Junhui was shoving it back under his shirt. Wonwoo didn’t think he had ever seen so much hurt on Junhui’s face before until then, and a small part of his heart had broken along with it. He wanted to ask, about the rings, about the story behind them, but he’d never found the chance to.

Sometimes, he’d see rings in his mind, in the fragments of his memory that still haunted him on occasion. Strangely enough, they looked so similar to the ones that Junhui wore around his neck, but Wonwoo always dismissed it as his brain filling the gaps in his past memory with things from his present. He refused to even think about the emotions that had come with the memory, taking those feelings and burying them deep in the receptacle that passed for his heart. Seeing the two rings had done something to him though, and he could feel all that emotion that he’d carefully locked away come bubbling up the surface, the locks over his heart broken. 

That hadn’t been it though, it had happened when Wonwoo had gone to clean the glass, fingers careful as he plucked the photographs from the sea of shards. The large photo had been the one in the frame - one of Junhui’s friends at what Wonwoo assumed was his graduation, the group of them in the photo wore smiles so bright that Wonwoo was sure he could feel the happiness through the photo. The smaller photo, however, had been of him and Junhui. Not the him and Junhui of the present, no, it was of him and Junhui at that same graduation as the one in the larger photo. Photo Wonwoo looked happy, his arms hooked around Junhui’s neck as he pressed a smiling kiss into Photo Junhui’s forehead. 

Wonwoo had felt his blood run cold, but at the same time had felt like he simultaneously wanted to laugh and cry. He had looked up at Jun, who was staring at him wide-eyed and afraid, and something in him snapped. That was how he had ended up here, shoving the two photos at Junhui and demanding an explanation as his heart threatened to rip itself from his chest without reason.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice trembling as he shoved the photos under Junhui’s nose. “Please. I need to know.”

“I- I can’t, Wonwoo,” Junhui answered, his voice hushed as he looked away from Wonwoo.

Chucking the photos in his lap, Wonwoo seated himself on the couch beside Junhui and took his hands in his. “Don’t do this, Jun. Please. I- I need answers.”

“Wonwoo,” Junhui said, as he carefully withdrew his hands from Wonwoo’s grasp. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“So it’s fair that I can’t remember anything but you can?” Wonwoo snapped, ignoring the way Junhui flinched at his words.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Junhui sighed, exhaustion and hurt creeping into his voice.

“Then tell me!” Wonwoo cried, anger and frustration rippling through him in waves. Anger at himself for feeling like that, frustration for not remembering anything about his past, both for not understanding any of his feelings. “Tell me why I feel the way I do when I look at you! Why my first reaction to seeing you sad is to hold you close! Why my hands ache to touch you, to wipe away the tears I know you cry every night. Why a part of me feels like I  _ love _ you! Like I’ve always loved you. And no, this isn’t some result of you looking after me, these feelings come from a place deep down and far away, and I don’t  _ understand _ what they mean.”

Tears streamed down his face, as Junhui caved and pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him. “Please, Wonwoo. Please don’t cry.” Junhui whispered, tears streaking his own face, as he brushed the hair out of Wonwoo’s eyes.

“Then tell me, Junnie,” Wonwoo mumbled, voice still trembling.

And Junhui did, laid his heart bare as he finally told Wonwoo of everything they had shared in the past - the friends, university, the wedding - and also everything he had lost after the accident. Halfway through, Wonwoo had reached out and tugged the chain from Junhui’s neck. Unhooking the clasp, he had taken the ring and placed his own ring back on his ring finger. Junhui had choked up a little at the action, bringing Wonwoo’s hand to his lips just for a second, before doing the same with his ring.

Now, the rings lay side by side, where their fingers have interlaced with each other. Wonwoo remained in Junhui’s arms, comfortable for the first time in months and now he finally knew why. Junhui, the one person who had been by his side every single day of the eight months of his life, was also  _ his _ Junhui, the person he had pledged his own life to. The person he  _ loved _ , and he could say that now because it was love that he had been feeling. A love he hadn’t understood, maybe, but it was love all the same. As Wonwoo continued to lie there, curled into Junhui like he was meant to be there, Junhui’s fingers carded through his hair, he was content. He still couldn’t remember much save from what the fragments chose to reveal, but he knew that even if never remembered, he was where he was supposed to be. And who knows? He had fallen in love with Jun once, he was sure he could do it again.

“Jun,” Wonwoo said when all was said and done, looking up at him from his position in his lap. “Do you still love me?”

Junhui sighed, pressing his lips to Wonwoo’s temple, a real smile tugging at his lips for the first time in weeks. “Always have, always will.”

  
\--END--

**Author's Note:**

> If you finished it, thank you so so much for reading it and please let me know what you thought because I feel like I wrote this in a daze.  
> You'll be able to find more on their background story in the prequel to this but basically, Wonwoo was in an accident, which caused him to lose his memory. Also, he and Jun are married, but he doesn't know (hence the rings).
> 
> If you have questions, you can always leave a comment or you can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/moonfleur_) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/moonfleur_)


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